White Roses Red
by Not A Ghost3
Summary: Erik is haunted by the same freakish nightmare about himself and Christine night after night- but is everything always as it seems to be? Erik is not quite sure...Morbid little one-shot, STRONG T rating for light smut. Sample entry for "The Phantom's Valentine One-Shot Contest". *3/5/17- Alternate ending posted and winners announced!*
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera.**

 **Warning: This story is a bit morbid and as stated in the summary contains slight smut. Read at your own risk. (Muhahaha...)**

 **Hello! Time for another one-shot contest! (WOOHOO!) Rules are very similar to what they were in the Christmas contest, but just as a refresher- I'll post the rules below!**

 **Entry timeline: February 6th- February 18th.**

 **Winners announced: BY February 28th. (Should be sooner- but it won't be any later than this date!)**

 **How to enter: Publish your story and include "Entry for the Phantom's Valentine One-Shot Contest" in your summary and PM me a link to your story.**

 **Reward: 1st overall, a review, it gets favorited, AND you get bragging rights! (who doesn't love bragging rights, am I right? 2nd and 3rd overall, a review and bragging rights! (And a favorite too if I REALLY love it!) Also EVERY story that enters gets a review from me!**

 **Guidelines: Story must be a ONE-SHOT. One-shots are allowed to continue into a full fledged story, but the judging will only be done on the first chapter. Stories must be new (so no submitting stories that were published on the site in 2006!). The story must be set ON Valentine's Day or leading up to Valentine's day, or a flashback of a previous Valentine's day, etc. The story doesn't necessarily have to be romantic and fluffy, (as you can see from the sample entry) stories can also be scary, angsty, or sad if that's what you wish it to be! Truly- it's a free for all except that Valentine's day at least has to be mentioned. Once again, ALL ratings are accepted as well as any character combination and any setting (AU, Canon, Modern, you name it!). Judging is based on creativity, overall enjoyment of the story, and the judge's personal take on how your story handled the topic of Valentine's day! Stories will be awarded top 3 and then category awards same as they were in A Very Phantom Christmas One-Shot contest. (See my story O Christmas Tree for an example!) All right- get out there, have fun, and start writing!**

 **Hope you enjoy this one-shot and if you do leave a review!**

* * *

His eyes shot open for the fifth time that night.

 _It was only a dream….only a…._

He rolled over to glance beside him on the bed. Empty. As always.

Erik took a deep breath as he stared up at the ceiling. He had been having the exact same freakish dream every time he closed his eyes for the past three weeks. It always started the same way with Christine dressed all in white holding a bundle of red roses, leading him toward his bed; all the while telling him how much she loved and adored him- his heart aflame. But along the way the lit hallway turned dark and the wood beneath his feet turned into a misty field and his bed….his bed turned into a grave. _His_ grave.

Which Christine gladly pushed him into each and every time.

He really needed to stop sleeping in a coffin.

Erik sat up, pushing away his blanket and climbing over the side of his resting place. He planted both feet on the floor and began his nightly ritual of pacing the floor before going and getting a drink. He wrapped a robe around his thin frame and began to pace when he stopped.

There was something tapping on his bedroom door. He cocked an eyebrow and reached for the knob of the door, suspiciously opening it just enough to see out of.

There, dressed in an all white nightgown, stood his Christine.

He almost jumped back. But this was not his nightmare, he was already in his room- how could Christine lead him _to_ his room? Ha! He had no reason to fear!

"Christine…why are you awake at this hour?" he asked softly as he opened the door the rest of the way.

Christine glanced shyly down at her hands. "I…I couldn't sleep…."

Erik cocked his head to one side. "I'm sorry…?"

Oh he was terrible at this!

Christine shook her head. "I don't know why I woke you, I just-" she stopped short.

Erik stepped out into the hallway. "Yes?"

Christine took a deep breath to steady herself before speaking. "It's just that…my father, he died four years ago yesterday and I've never gone a year without visiting on, well…you know…"

Christine barely got the words out before breaking down into a sobbing mess. Erik instinctively backed up, not knowing how to properly comfort her as she wrapped her arms around herself.

"I couldn't sleep knowing that I didn't go visit him- I can't live with myself!" she cried harder, tears staining her already thin nightgown, making it even more see-through.

"Christine," Erik whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Would you like me to take you to… see your father?" Erik knew how silly the words sounded before the even left his mouth. How was she supposed to 'see' her father? But, if it made Christine stop crying it would be worth it.

"You would do that?" Christine whispered, looking up at him.

"Of course."

Christine gave a shy smile and pressed a kiss to his masked face. "Oh I don't how I will ever repay you, allow me to get dressed."

"Really my dear, it is three in the morning, I'm sure a nice skirt and a warm cloak will suffice," Erik said as she turned and headed down the hallway to her room.

What had he just agreed to? An outing to a graveyard at three in the morning on Valentine's day with his Christine. It almost sounded romantic, but Erik knew it wasn't the case- he was going to a graveyard!

Erik froze.

Christine, all in white, was leading him to a graveyard…his nightmare was coming true.

He gasped but quickly dismissed the idea. His Christine, his sweet, innocent Christine would never purposefully push him into a grave. No, no of course not- he was foolish for letting such a dream get to his head. He reentered his room and put shoes on as well as his overcoat and cloak.

Christine met him in the hallway, dressed just as Erik had instructed, holding a few white roses from the parlor tightly in her hand. Erik held his hand out for Christine to take and they headed off together into the cold night.

* * *

 _The graveyard looks like something out of a nightmare…oh wait, that's right-_ my _nightmare._

Erik held Christine's arm tighter to him as she clung to him for both warmth and support. They walked until they reached the gravestone that belonged to the late Charles Daaé. Christine let out a choked sob and fell to her knees, dropping the three white roses she held in her hand.

"Papa, forgive me…Papa I am sorry I neglected to come, please forgive me. I only have but a few flowers, but I shall bring more, Papa , I promise…" Christine wept, hand trailing the inscription of the name and years on the grave.

Erik lurched forward as if something had pushed him from behind, though he knew good and well no one was there. However, he shot a glare around the area, still shook up from the similarity of the night's events to his recurring dream. Christine still softly wept in front of him and he took another step forward, this time of his own will, and found himself dropping to his knees beside her both out of pity and love.

"Christine, do not cry so," he gently said as he took her into his arms.

Christine seemed to melt against him; molding to his body and filling in the empty spaces in his soul. Erik clung to her tighter even as her cries diminished into a few sniffles here and there.

"Shh…it's all right, I'm here," Erik said, surprising himself.

Christine nodded against his chest and snuggled closer, pressing hard against him until Erik had his back leaned up to the gravestone. Erik did not let go, but did adjust them so that Christine was the one against the cold stone. He basked in her warmth until he felt something odd.

His hands were no longer on Christine's back.

Instead his hands were under Christine's hands and on top of her breasts-

Erik snapped his eyes open.

What the hell was he doing?

But Erik no longer felt in control. He felt the same urge that had pushed him forward earlier, the same urge that had convinced him to agree to accompany Christine to the graveyard. It was that same urge that prevented him from stopping what he knew he would regret.

But he didn't care.

He also didn't care when he felt his hand dipping under Christine's night blouse to feel the soft swells on her chest.

"Erik…" Christine half moaned, her hand finding his hand under her shirt, and squeezing.

She gasped so sharply Erik almost stopped.

 _Almost_.

Erik did it again, this time more confident of himself, eliciting another moan from Christine. She guided her own hand over to her other breast and began squeezing herself, but Erik stopped her by taking over for her. Christine took the opportunity to latch on to his chest and pull him down on top of her, falling onto the dirt behind her. She began to quickly unbutton Erik's shirt which Erik failed to notice as he was a bit preoccupied. Erik on the other hand grew impatient in his own endeavors. He dug into the fabric of her nightgown and ripped it open, revealing her bare chest to the night air. Christine stopped and stared up at him as he goggled at the sight of her.

Erik knew he should have stopped then but he was helpless to whatever power Christine held over him. He dove down to kiss every inch of her chest as she threw her head back, pulling him closer.

"You're so magnificent…" Erik got out in between sucking and kissing her mounds. His hands wandered down to where her skirt started and he began quickly gathering the material up in his hands, pushing it higher until her legs were vulnerable to the night as well. While still kissing her, his mouth moving down to her stomach, his hands ventured down to part her legs. Christine seemed to read his mind as in a heartbeat they were wrapped around his waist, holding him down to her.

Erik pushed up to hover above her, one hand supporting him and his other…

He didn't realize quite what he was doing until he felt Christine buck her hips into his hand. Christine groaned and pushed up onto him harder, silently begging for him to continue.

"Please…" Christine whispered, taking hold of his hand and keeping it over her most private part.

Erik was long gone and had no choice but to obey his instincts and ripped down her undergarments. He glanced down but did not allow himself to look at her there, but he could feel- oh how he could feel! Soft curls, now damp, met his hands, and he stroked his fingers up and down, still not daring to glance down. He felt Christine's hips continue to rise and fall, more frantically with each passing moment. He lowered himself so that he could press himself up against her, but did not dare undo his pants, no matter how painful it was not too.

Christine however, lay under him, nearly naked with her hands above her head. "For me, please… _Erik_!" she cried out very suddenly, her hands digging into the dirt under her.

Erik's fingers found her opening and crept inside. Christine let out a cry and arched her back, sending his fingers up further. Erik was the one to gasp this time as he pulled his fingers out, examining the wetness on them. Christine moaned and Erik looked down only to see Christine's fingers taking place of his own.

 _Oh no, no, no...that is mine..._

Erik thrust his fingers back into her opening as soon as she removed hers and began moving them up and down, in and out- slow at first and then faster and faster as Christine cried out for him to speed up. And how could he deny her anything?

"Erik!" she shouted, shaking from the tremors that rocketed through her body.

Erik pressed his lips to hers fiercely, kissing her on the lips for the first time in his life. He felt wonderful, like he was in heaven, but it wasn't enough. No it wasn't enough, couldn't be enough as he pressed down harder on her there, desperate for his pants to disappear so that he could truly feel her-

Erik pulled away quickly, forcefully pushing her away from him and coming to his senses. He squeezed his eyes shut and shoved Christine's skirt back over her exposed area and rolled off of her.

What was _wrong_ with him?

Christine lay on the ground, head propped up by her father's gravestone, chest quickly heaving up and down, shirt ripped wide open and hair a mess. She had a strange glaze to her eyes and Erik found himself crawling back towards her.

"Christine? I apologize I don't know what possessed me to do that- it was improper and-"

Christine didn't respond.

"Christine?" Erik said with more urgency this time, inching towards her.

Motionless.

He crawled over to her, cradling her in his arms. Her head lolled to the side.

He froze with shock.

She was dead.

And he had killed her.

The world began to come in and out of focus as his eyes scanned her limp body. He had done this. He and his kiss of death- what a monster he was! He felt every emotion he'd ever had come bubbling up in the same instance as he crushed her body against his chest.

He felt that same urge come push him up to his feet, and then he noticed a red substance rubbing off onto his sleeves. He followed the trail to the back of Christine's head; dripping onto the ground leading to the corner of the gravestone, coating the precious white roses in a crimson bath of blood.

 _Blood_.

Erik felt like gagging.

So it wasn't his kiss, it was his own selfish protectiveness that had caused this- killed by her own father's grave.

He dropped Christine to the ground, backing up slowly. He should have never agreed to come out to the graveyard, insisted that they should wait until daylight- but no. He had to allow her to come in the middle of the night to visit her father! Why had he not stopped? He began to shake his head, refusing to accept the truth, not willing to believe that she was dead.

And then he felt his foot snag a rock and he began falling backwards….further and further down….

He woke up with a jerk.

This was the fifth…no sixth…time he had woken up that night.

He raised up slowly running his hands over his face.

"Erik, what is it?"

Erik about jumped out his skin.

He quickly turned his head to see Christine snuggled under the covers of their bed.

"Chris…Christine?" He whispered, unsure of himself.

Christine sighed. "Did you have another nightmare, dear? Oh I told you not to play Bach before you went to bed-"

But Erik didn't comprehend what she was saying. He was still in shock that he and Christine were in a bed together- wait. A bed? Since when did he get a proper bed?

"Erik? Erik? What's wrong? Why are you ignoring me?" Christine asked, sitting up as well, a gold band on her left hand coming to his attention.

Erik shook his head. "What day is it?"

Christine gave a small laugh. "Why-"

"Just, tell me, what day is it?"

"Valentine's day…"

"And what day did your father die?" Erik asked very suddenly, gripping her by the shoulders.

"Erik! Really!" Christine protested, attempting to remove his hands.

"Please- when?"

"Christmas time- Erik, what is the matter?"

Erik fell back onto the bed with a relieved sigh. It had been a dream after all.

"Erik, you are scaring me, tell me what's wrong-"

But Erik cut her off by pulling her down and kissing her passionately on the mouth. When they parted for air Christine smiled down at him.

"What brought this on?"

"How about we get started on your Valentine's gift a bit early, hm?"

And with that Erik flipped Christine onto her back and cradled her head under his hand. He began to kiss her down her neck, but failed to notice the slight bump that protruded on the back of her head. Christine smiled, happy to do anything to rid her husband of the nightmares that haunted him, especially in this way. And in truth?

She hoped the nightmares would never stop.

* * *

 **The End (Or is it...?)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera.**

 **Hello! First of all, thank you so much for all the entries into the Valentine's one-shot contest. They were all wonderful and I loved reading each and every one of them. I hope you all enjoyed writing them as much I enjoyed reading them! Secondly, I am SOOOO sorry I have made you all wait so long for the update with the winners. I had every intention of posting this on the 28th, but alas- ye old flu hit and I have felt miserable since last Wednesday. *yuck* But here we are, feeling much better and up to actually typing out this author note!**

 **The winners are posted at the bottom in another author note just like the Christmas contest. As for the story- this is an alternate ending to White Roses Red. I would suggest going back and reading that one but stop when you get to where this one starts ("Blood. Erik felt like gagging", the alternate ending begins where the italics end in this post.) This is how the story was originally going to end, but I have made lots of edits and I still feel like the ending that was already posted is the true ending. HOWEVER, I thought you guys might enjoy how it was originally planned to end. Warning, this ending is a lot more morbid, dark, and tragic than the ending in the posted one-shot. So if you wish for that to be the ending then go ahead and skip to the end to see the winners, otherwise- happy reading! You've been warned...**

* * *

 _Blood_.

 _Erik felt like gagging._

 _So it wasn't his kiss, it was his own selfish protectiveness that had caused this- killed by her own father's grave._

 _He dropped Christine to the ground, backing up slowly. He should have never agreed to come out to the graveyard, insisted that they should wait until daylight- but no. He had to allow her to come in the middle of the night to visit her father! Why had he not stopped? He began to shake his head, refusing to accept the truth, not willing to believe that she was dead._

 _And then he felt his foot snag a rock and he began falling backwards….further and further down…._

His head hit the bottom of the ground with a _thump._ He laid on the dirt panting and staring up into the swirling blackness that was the night. Slowly, he began to lift his head up, disoriented. His mask was on the ground, having been knocked off due to the brunt of the landing. Surely this wasn't real— not his Christine, not by his own hand. He scrambled to his feet and looked up. The hole he was in was deep— far taller than his six-foot-five inches. He looked around, desperate for anything to get him out. He shuddered to think of the purpose of the said hole he was now in.

Some poor soul's grave….

Or was it _his grave_ and his nightmare was slowly becoming a reality?

Erik gritted his teeth and decided to climb, seeing as that would be the only logical way out. He latched his foot into the dirt sides and hoisted himself up best he could manage. His breath came out in puffs and his heart raced, still fresh from the shock of Christine's death-

"No," he said firmly, stopping the thought in its tracks.

Christine was not dead, she was simply unconscious or pretending….yes, like that despicable, Shakespearian excuse for a love story he had read once. He dared a look up. He could see the top of the ground, the grass barely peeking over the top. _Paradise_. Erik un-clutched his fingers from the dirt wall and heaved himself onto the flat land above. He crawled the rest of the way, embracing the earth as he collapsed on to it shaking. After a moment, he got to his knees. The world spun around him, threatening to knock him back over into the grave but he persisted and stayed strong in his position with his knees planted firmly on the ground. His nightmare resurfaced to the forefront of his mind, dragging his courage down like demons in the pit of fire— but Erik pushed the cursed thoughts away. He would _not_ let his ridiculous fear conquer him.

 _I control my life, thank you…._

With a deep breath he slowly stood and surveyed his surroundings— Charles Daaé's grave was just a bit to the right of him at a diagonal. He set off towards it. Christine was still alive, he knew it, it had to be true— she couldn't be dead!

He wouldn't let her be dead.

Erik reached the grave, wavering as the world still rocked around in his mind. He nearly fell on top of Christine in his attempt to check her pulse, but fell to the ground beside her instead as his knees buckled.

No pulse.

Of course there's no pulse— she's dead! She's been dead, you fool!

Erik shook his head, clutching Christine's hand to his chest. What was he to do now? His whole life, his whole meaning rested in the fate of this girl who laid dead at his feet. How was he to go on? The question burned in his mind, twisting his insides into a clenching knot-

He snapped his head up.

He already knew the answer.

He _couldn't_ go on.

No, the only way to survive, to have music again, to have meaning again was to be in the same realm as his Christine.

Whatever that might entail.

Erik had decided-

But by what means would he ensure that he was bound for the grave- how was he to kill himself? He had no knife on him, his punjab was tucked away five cellars below the opera house, and he no longer carried poisons around with him anymore…

He found his answer in the question.

The _grave_ ….

Of course- the grave! It had done its job exceedingly well for Christine- why not for him?

He crawled over Christine so that he was positioned in front of the grave. He grasped either side of it and took a deep breath.

And knocked his head against it.

And again and again and again….

He felt his thin skin break open and smelled the blood as it thickly oozed down his face. He took another thwack against the hard stone and a definite crack echoed around him. He slumped over, lightheaded and confused. He should be dead by now! He should have a concussion, should have passed out- something! But no, whatever damned drive he had in him to survive was being stubborn and prevailing once more.

He had had enough.

Erik gathered his strength and rose to his feet, slipping his arms under Christine's arms as he did. He dragged them both over to where the empty grave sat awaiting its victim. He hoisted her up so that it was almost as if they were hugging, still backing up determinedly toward the hole in the ground. Erik didn't have time to think or to rationalize as he stood at the edge of the grave.

Instead he fell, finally succumbing to the pain that sent streaks of white ripping through his forehead. He allowed the weight of Christine's limp body to push him down as he fell right into the pit that awaited him- the same pit that had plagued him in his dreams. He knew now this was his grave, his reality. His nightmare had come true, his fears had been realized and his sweet, angelic Christine had been dragged into in the end— cursed to the same fate as he. But as he laid at the bottom, face down in the dirt and clutching Christine to him as he laid on top of her, gasping his last breaths— he came to his final realization.

Frankly, he didn't care.

* * *

 **And so we meet again! What did ya think? Liked it? Preferred it the way it was and I should leave well enough alone? Hehe. Before I get to the winners, there is a tie for 3rd place because I simply could not make my mind up! So there is a tie for 3rd place. All right- I've made you all wait long enough, so without further ado: here are the winners! (Once more, besides the top 3, all other categories are posted alphabetically NOT by the numerical order of favorites.)**

 **First Place**

 **Of Angels and Of Love by phantomfluffandstuff**

 **First Runner-Up**

 **Street Kisses by LittleLongHairedOutlaw**

 **Second Runner-Up(s)**

 **La Saint-Valentin by AliceHeart247**

 **AND**

 **San Valentino by E.M.K81**

 **Best R/C**

 **The Gift by flightofanangel**

 **Cutest**

 **A Matter of Wealth by Sherian**

 **Most Original**

 **The Branded Heart by NewsieAndAGeek**

 **Most Romantic**

 **Dance of Love by Saturdaychick**

 **Most Twisted**

 **The Pier by Violinaire**

 **Congratulations to all the winners! And thank you again for entering! Feel free to shout your winnings from the rooftops or edit your summary to say whatcha got! If any of you haven't read these stories- go check them out, they are all amazing and I would highly recommend reading them. I'll be creating another community with all of these stories just like I did for the Christmas contest. Thank you again- until the next contest!**


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